The Size

The Size, that one size, is very important to me.  Scratch that, it *was* very important to me.  Or wait,  maybe it still is?  No, it can't be...

See where I am right now?  I'm in size purgatory.

When I first started with my ED, I had it in my mind what sizes I wanted to be.  I gave a range that I thought was suitable and I hit those sizes after much restriction.  Then those sizes were not good enough. I wanted to be The Size of all the other thin girls in my high school.  (Please note: this size will not be mentioned by number as it can be triggering for anyone reading this - or for me even writing it!)

This size (which I was not even sure if this is the size these thin girls took! I just merely guessed)  was the ideal in my opinion.  These were the girls who had it all.  They were popular, pretty, had tons of friends, boyfriends, brains, nice cars, and even better clothes.  Being popular was not in my interest, but the rest was.  Sure enough, being thin affords one such pleasures and luxuries that they had, and I didn't.

I never did get to The Size in high school and eventually ended up binging my way back to the size I started with in the first place.  And I truly mean binge.  My body was so lacking of food and nutrients that my biology took over and it would not stop letting me put food in me because it was literally starving and out of wack.

Years later, after a brief natural recover period in college and shortly thereafter, the ED came back.  It wasn't size driven but pounds driven.  I was curious to see if I could hit my lowest weight on the scale again.  And I did with restriction, coupled with socially acceptable forms of over-exercising:  running.

One day after I hit my lowest weight again,  I was in my favorite clothing store's fitting room, trying on a new style of pants.  They were a deep grey color, silk, fashion forward and indulgent by stylistic means.  I took in a pair labeled with the size I was currently fitting into,  but once I put them on, I noticed that they were too big.  I could not believe it.  Bashfully, I asked the sales woman for the next size down, giving off an uncomfortable grimace because I had never asked for this size in my life.

Most of all, it was The Size.

She came back with them and I closed the door, holding the holy grail in my shaking hands.  Taking a deep breath, I pulled the pants up and buttoned them - with ease.  I caught my glance in the mirror of pure shock, exasperation and awe.  I had done it!  To really test this, I opened the fitting room and asked the sales woman how they looked. She confirmed my beliefs that yes, these fit and they looked great on me. I left the store having a party in my head, all alone, about my newest "accomplishment".

From then on when I went into a clothing store, I made sure to pick up items in The Size as well as the next size up, and after getting "more in shape", The Size became my size.  If an article of clothing did not fit in The Size, it went back to the rack and I either felt terrible about myself, or convinced myself that the tag was wrong, or they were cut incorrectly.

Through recovery, I've been getting rid of The Size (and others)  from my closet.  Some are still there, including the initial pants that set it off.  Fortunately, I am moving away from liking them because of their size but instead enjoying the for their style.  I truly felt ahead of the fashion curve with them, and it's something I'm proud of in that way.  If nothing else, they look kinda neat hanging in my walk-in closet.

My biggest struggle right now is being at least two or three size above The Size.  I've been thinking about this a lot, and certainly talking about it in therapy more.  With my ED, I convinced myself that anything above The Size was bad, fat, ugly, whatever.  I looked at photos of myself larger than The Size and told myself I would never allow myself to go back to that.  How did I not know how fat I was then?  What a shame..  I now am realizing the real shame is I put that damn idea in my head in the first place.

I am now back to that size and I am not handling it well.  Though I feel happier, healthier and better about my recovery in general, this one thing - the numbers thing - really sticks out like a raging fire. I wonder: maybe I need to really grieve the old size to embrace the new (or what was old, but is now new again)

If I think about it, putting The Size to bed is like the passing of someone close.  At the funeral, people remember the positive, but also the negative.  Remember how Aunt Millie used to hold grudges?  How Uncle Tim spent money frivolously?  Everyone has good traits that we remember, but also the bad traits, and so does The Size.

For example, The Size, or what I could call Size Unhealthy For Jill, was impossible to keep up with biologically.  I had to spend a ton of time working out and less time eating to be at that size.  It was an unhealthy obsession and is not right for my body.  It did nothing but make me obsessed even more over numbers and much of my day was spent body checking to make sure The Size was still mine to be had.  I kid you not that probably 90% of my thoughts in an average day was spent on not only my ED, but The Size and what else goes along with it.

Well, what a waste of time!  

However, The Size did some pretty cool things too.  Because I was thinner, I suddenly discovered fashion, which I still love.  And, silly me, fashion comes in all shapes and sizes, so I can still enjoy it today.  I also began running to keep The Size, but I actually liked running too, but on my own terms - running when I want to, whether it was racing or just a casual "wog" with friends, as opposed to making myself run and train to keep thin or keep up with the Running Joneses.  It's all a matter of taking these positive traits to the new sizes I am wearing now.

And here's another thought - what if I somehow renamed these new sizes I still find hard to accept?  So, I could be Size Healthy.  Or Size Energy, Size Woman In Her 30's Who Is Not A Teen Anymore. Size I Am Happier Now.  Size I Have Time For Friends, Parties and Social Life.  Size I Am A Better Wife.  Size I Am Helping Others Who Face Recovery From Their EDs.  Size I Am A More Whole Person.  Size Who Cares, Because I Am Me?

 

And finally what would happen if I forced myself to wear some number I found dreadful  How would the events of my day go? Perhaps I don't know right now, but maybe it's time to find out.